


Unification

by tess1978



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Binge Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Lovey-Dovey, Nobody dies in this, OOC Arthur Maxson, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, i padded all the fluff with smut, implied threesome, non-sequential narrative, sickeningly sweet romance, so much smooching, this turned out way longer than I thought it would when I started
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall of the institute, it falls to the leaders of the remaining factions, Elder Arthur Maxson and General Abby Rose Bailey to unify the two factions for a lasting peace in the Commonwealth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read chronologically, start [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14084326)

On the day that used to be known as Christmas Eve, almost a year after the Institute was destroyed by the Minutemen, Abigail Rose Bailey, the General of the Minutemen, and Arthur Maxson, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, stood together before the assembled elite of both forces, and were married. The allegiance solidified the peace treaty and balance of power between the two factions, and effectively combined them into one. The union was praised by all as politically sound, and would benefit all parties involved as well as the people of the Commonwealth as a whole.

The wedding occurred in the most unlikely of places: in the middle of the street in Goodneighbor. The choice of venue was as political as the wedding. Nobody from either side would dare start a fight with any members of the opposite faction in Goodneighbor. Mayor Hancock ran too tight a ship for that.

Hancock had a vested interest in maintaining peace between the two remaining factions in the Commonwealth, as did all residents. After all, peace meant prosperity. As such, he had had a hand in the negotiations leading up to the wedding.

The bride wore grey, a soft, calf length dress sewn by a particularly talented settler and gifted to her as a thank you for improving the lives of settlers all around the Commonwealth. The groom looked uncomfortable in his formal Elder robes, apparel he normally ignored in favour of a practical officer’s uniform and armoured leather coat. 

They stood together before the officiant and repeated their vows, to remain faithful to one another and to the ideals of the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, to aid each other in war and guard each other in battle, and to symbolize the united leadership of the Commonwealth, now and into the future. 

They sealed the agreement with an awkward kiss, both parties uncomfortably aware of the large crowd watching, and then Arthur took Abby’s hand and they turned to face the crowd. 

What followed was a tedious twenty minutes of contract and treaty signing, witnessed by Paladin Danse and Preston Garvey. Then another twenty minutes of handshaking and mutual appreciation between all involved parties.

The wedding planning had been rushed. The betrothal had occurred only four short weeks ago, and in that time there had been a flurry of activity between the Castle and the Prydwen, as delegates from both sides negotiated the finer details of the contracts and treaty, and various members of both teams collaborated to arrange the ceremony and subsequent festivities.

The main portion of the wedding reception planning had fallen to Hancock, who arranged an outdoor festival for the lower ranking members of both factions, as well as any local citizens who wished to attend, and the private reception for the people closest to the bride and groom. There were still over seventy people packed into the Third Rail. 

Dinner was a whole roasted Brahmin, with tatos and carrots and razorgrain rolls. There was plenty left for the people outside. Someone had managed to bake a cake, sweetened with mutfruit syrup. Speeches were heard, toasts were drunk, and the couple danced together awkwardly while the audience cheered. 

Spirits were high, and the liquor flowed freely as the revelers let loose in celebration. Arthur and Abby spent most of the evening near each other, not talking or looking at each other, but greeting their well-wishers and friends with handshakes and hugs, smiling at the jokes that got increasingly off-colour as the night progressed, and by the time Danse and Garvey escorted them out of the Third Rail and into the large suite in the Hotel Rexford where most of the negotiations leading up to the wedding had occurred, they had had their fill of comments about wedding nights lasting a week and eagerly anticipated little Maxsons.

Their bodyguards left them at the door and departed back to the party, leaving the two alone for the first time tonight. Abby blushed a little, and quickly retreated into the bathroom, where she regarded herself in the mirror. She took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she was so nervous all of a sudden. It’s not like this was a new situation. 

She wondered what Nate would think, if he would approve. She thought he would have. He had been a military man who preferred peace. He would have preferred to see leaders find a way to compromise rather than resort to violence. And as a soldier, he would have respected the type of leader and man Arthur Maxson was. She hoped he would have respected the type of leader she had become. 

She pushed thoughts of Nate aside. Now was not the time to think of her late husband. She’d had long enough to think about that. This was her wedding night.

She looked in the mirror. Her makeup, such as it was, was smudged from the day, so she washed it off, wiping the smudges carefully from around her grey eyes. She took down her dark, reddish brown hair from its updo and let it tumble around her shoulders, and then changed into the soft nightgown her friend Piper had found for her in the ruins of a department store. 

She took a deep breath and opened the door, ready to present herself to her new husband for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [November](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14114152)
> 
> [December Part 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14124835)


	2. February

The General and the Elder met for the first time in the large suite set aside for their treaty negotiations at the Hotel Rexford. They each brought their second in command to serve as bodyguard. Preston Garvey stood at Abby’s back, and Paladin Danse stood at Arthur’s. These were to be peace negotiations, so all parties were unarmed, and Danse had reluctantly left his power armour on the airship.

The two leaders sized each other up. Maxson was a large, fearsome looking man, with a thick beard and a dramatic scar. Bailey was fairly tall, but not unusually so, dressed in the dark blue General’s uniform she had acquired when she retook the Castle from mirelurks. 

The bodyguards eyed each other suspiciously. 

The awkward silence was broken when the door opened and Hancock, the Mayor of Goodneighbor and host of these talks, entered the room. He was carrying a tray of food and some glasses, and had a couple of bottles tucked underneath his arm. 

He smiled broadly at the assembly, eliciting a shudder from the Brotherhood men, but no words were exchanged. This was neutral ground, after all. 

“Hey, fellas,” Hancock said. “All the best talks come from being relaxed. Why don’t you two come down to the Third Rail with me, and let the bosses chat. They can send for you when they need you. 

Garvey and Danse were obviously uncomfortable with this arrangement, but Abby thought it seemed like a good way for her and Maxson to get to know each other. She didn’t expect negotiations to happen in one evening anyways. 

So her nod came first, followed shortly afterward by Maxson’s, and then the pair were left alone with a plate of food and two bottles of rum. 

Arthur looked around the room. The suite consisted of a main area with a table and chairs, a sofa, and a radio, and doors leading to two separate bedrooms and a bathroom. He looked back at the General, then leaned forward and poured two glasses of rum.

They looked at each other over their glasses for a few minutes, until finally Abby broke the silence. 

“What is it you’re after in the Commonwealth, Maxson?”

At this point, Arthur was no longer certain. He’d led his army here to the Commonwealth to deal with the Institute. But the Institute was dealt with by the Minutemen instead, a ragtag alliance of settlers led by a vault dweller. The Brotherhood would be unwise to take on the Minutemen, armed as they were with a significant amount of artillery strategically placed throughout the region.

And yet withdrawal wasn’t an option either. Early on after their arrival, the Brotherhood had made its own mark, clearing settlements of their own and setting up safe supply runs. They had already drawn new initiates from the region and some members of his own ranks had expressed an interest in settling down in the area. Like it or not, the Brotherhood was integrated in the Commonwealth. 

In addition, he was aware that the Brotherhood’s patrols, clearing out ghouls and mutants, had eased the pressure considerably on the Minutemen, and had contributed largely to their success. 

He felt it was in the Brotherhood’s best interests to remain in the region, and he was hoping to work out an agreement with the Minutemen to make that possible.

For her part, Abby didn’t know what the Brotherhood wanted, but if they planned on staying she wanted to ensure it was without hostility. The Minutemen were still stretched thin, despite recruiting more members every day. With the Brotherhood’s help, she hoped to help ensure the survival of the people of the Commonwealth, with the eventual goal of a peaceful and prosperous region.

And so the pair began their talks. They discussed territory, armaments, the rights of settlers both human and non-human, and the future of the Commonwealth as a whole.

They talked for a long time, and finished the first bottle of rum. 

They had a surprising amount in common, and their discussion eventually drifted to discussions of books they’d read, music, and eventually a slightly drunken impression of Travis Miles by Arthur Maxson. 

The second bottle of rum was only half done when Abby passed out on the floor, her feet on the sofa cushions, and Arthur hiccuped once before starting to snore on the table.

***

They managed to stagger down, bleary eyed in the morning to meet their bodyguards for breakfast, having come to the agreement that the two should meet once a month for “negotiations”... and to let off a little of the stress that built up when one was in a position of authority. After all, in this whole wasteland, they each realized that the other was their only real equal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [January](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14084326)
> 
> [March](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14041857)


	3. July

As usual, Hancock dropped off provisions and some alcohol. He seemed to have cooled off, finally, about that incident a few months ago, and left off his warning to them to behave. Abby and Arthur nodded dutifully, and Hancock took his leave with Danse and Garvey in tow. 

As soon as the door shut, Abby went to the door and pressed her ear to it. Arthur was right behind her, and as soon as the footsteps faded away, he was pushing her coat off of her shoulders to bare her neck, and he had his mouth pressed to the pulse on her throat. 

Abby was unbuttoning his pants, and without hesitation, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, whispering into his ear, “It’s been a really long month, Arthur.”

“Mmm…” he replied, and his mouth crashed down onto hers. He briefly considered dragging her over to the couch, but when his hand slipped down into her trousers and felt the wetness between her legs, he knew he couldn’t wait. He turned her around, pulled her pants down and her coat up, then hitched her hips towards him as he entered her.

Her forehead rested on her right arm, and she grunted in relief as he fucked her hard, and her left hand slid between her legs to circle her clit until she came. She moaned loudly, so he slipped his hand around to cover her mouth and quiet her. She bit his finger, then sucked it into her mouth as he gave her one final thrust before pulling out to spill on the floor. 

He leaned his forehead into the fabric of her coat and caught his breath. 

When she whispered, “You could have at least bought me a drink first,” he chuckled and stepped back. 

Their immediate urges sated, they rearranged their clothing and sat at the table, pulling out their respective paperwork. They dealt with the issues that had cropped up during the past month in about an hour, and then Arthur shut his folder with finality and said, “Are you hungry?”

They retreated to one of the bedrooms with the food and the rum, and then stripped to their underwear and sat on the bed. They washed their meal down with sips of liquor, but it wasn’t long before the bottle was abandoned in favour of hot kisses and roaming hands. Abby took a brief minute to set the tray aside, and then she was back in his arms, his tongue chasing the sweet/bitter taste of rum on her breath.

He laid her back against the pillows, and she closed her eyes as he worked his way down her body, laying between her thighs as he worshipped her breasts, squeezing them softly and licking at her pink nipples, burying his face between them while he flicked at them with his thumbs. And then she whimpered as he began kissing his way down her belly, his beard chafing her slightly as he went. 

By the time he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders so she could wrap her thighs around his head, she was keening and pulling at the bedsheets. So when he finally covered her with his mouth and slid his tongue inside her, she was right on the brink. He sucked and lapped at her as she came, reveling in her taste and smell, and worked two fingers inside her to feel her inner muscles contract. 

Her soft cries and whispers of “Arthur, please” were so arousing that by the time she lay still and panting, he was ready and desperate to be inside her. He crawled back up her body, kissing his way back as he went, and as he pushed inside her wet heat, his mouth came down on hers and she tasted herself on his lips. 

He kept his thrusts slow and languid, but soon Abby wanted more, so she pushed on his shoulder until he rolled over onto his back, and she sat up, grinding herself into his hips until he was seated deeper within her than he’d ever been. He looked into her eyes, his hands roaming her breasts and abdomen, finally settling on her hips, and the sight of her reddish brown hair tumbling around her shoulders, her face flushed as she rode him, was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He bit his lip hard to keep from coming, but the slick tightness of her pussy on his cock was more than he could bear, and he barely managed to warn her with a grunted “Abby, move,” before she slipped off him and onto his thighs, wrapping her fingers around his dripping cock and stroking it firmly until he spurted onto his belly. 

***

They lay awake talking, only falling asleep as the sun crept over the horizon, Abby’s head on Arthur’s shoulder, his thigh between hers, and the sheets tangled lightly around them both.

They stumbled into breakfast at ten, bleary-eyed from exhaustion, to find Preston and Danse rubbing their own heads, the alcohol wafting off them.

“Magnolia,” said Danse to Arthur when they arrived. And Preston just covered his eyes and turned red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [June](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14067723)
> 
> [August](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14095624)


	4. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how terribly out of character this is, but at this point I am having way too much fun to stop.

“There have been some reports of Brotherhood harrassing some of the ghouls at The Slog,” Abby said. 

Arthur’s mouth tightened. “I’ll have a word. I’ll remind everyone that we are under a peace agreement now. But it’s hard to undo a long-held doctrine.”

“Well, too bad. We need peace for ALL the residents of the Commonwealth. Not just the ones that live up to Brotherhood standards.”

Arthur sighed, but he had to agree. He made a mark on his paper.

“Do we have any other business to address?” He asked. 

“Nope,” replied Abby, shutting her folder. “I think that about covers it.” She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “It’s been a long month. There’s a lot of shuffling of settlers as they prepare to plant for the spring. There’s been some disputes. Nothing major, but it’s wearing. How are things up on your airship?”

“Quiet, actually. Quinlan… our archivist… he lost his cat for a few days and we had to tear the place apart. There were accusations of a conspiracy, calls for an investigation, the works. But then it turned out it had just hidden in the storage bay and had kittens.”

Abby laughed and reached for the bottle of rum. Arthur held up his glass and she filled his as well. She got up and turned on the radio. “Hey, we should play a drinking game. Every time Travis has a panic attack, we take a shot.”

Arthur laughed and said “I’ll drink to that," and drained his glass.

An hour later they were sitting on the floor, twirling the empty rum bottle and eyeing the second. Abby was laughing at something Arthur said when suddenly she caught sight of the window. “Hey!” she half-shouted as she staggered to her feet and wandered over to it. “I need some AAIR!” 

She pried open the window, and a cold, early spring wind blew in. “Come look!” she whispered loudly. Arthur joined her, leaning out the window. “If I spit, do you think I can hit that drifter?”

“NO Abby. It’s INAPPRO. PRIATE. For leaders to spit out windows.”

“Ok, then, Elder. You do it.”

“FINE.” 

So Arthur Maxson sniffed hard, cleared his throat, and hawked a loogie right out the window of the Hotel Rexford onto a passing drifter. He immediately pulled his head back into the room, but Abby stuck hers back out the window. The drifter looked up. 

It wasn’t a drifter. 

It was Hancock.

And he was heading into the hotel. 

They both turned to the door with identical guilty expressions on their faces. 

When the knock came, Arthur opened the door. 

Hancock just looked at them. 

“It was her fault,” Arthur said.

“Hey, don’t throw me under the bus. You’re the one who spit. On Hancock.” She burst into giggles. 

“Look. Guys. I get that you’re both busy, stressed out people with a lot of responsibility. And I get that you’re young...how old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” replied Arthur.

“Twenty-four,” replied Abby.

“Ok, so just a couple kids. I understand that you need to let loose and relax a bit. But the fact is you are in charge of a lot of people. You have responsibilities. But people are watching. Word gets out. So just try to chill in here and keep your nonsense out of the public eye.”

Arthur nodded solemnly at the ghoul. Abby had crept behind him as he spoke and was reaching for his hat. 

“Don’t.” he warned her, and then he turned to leave. 

When the door shut behind him, Abby and Arthur took one look at each other and burst out laughing. Then they sat on the couch and started on the second bottle of rum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [February](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14039755)
> 
> [April](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14050373)


	5. October

“Come to bed with me. Please,” Arthur whispered across the table.

She made them finish their paperwork first. When the others left, they kept their eyes on their folders and discussed the issues that had cropped up during the harvest season and the preparations that were being made for winter. They didn’t rush, but as soon as they were finished, they packed their paperwork away with no small amount of relief. 

Arthur came around the table and pulled Abby to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and brought his mouth down on hers for a kiss. In it was all the longing he had kept inside the since the last time he’d seen her. He swept his tongue into her mouth and nibbled on her lower lip, and she sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. He kissed her so long that he developed a kink in his neck, so he lifted her onto the table, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Eventually he came up for air. 

“I really missed you.” she said. “Sometimes, at night, I go up on the castle walls and look up at the Prydwen and imagine you looking down at my castle.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Sometimes I do,” he said. Abby’s heart crept up into her throat at his words. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep doing this, seeing him once a month. She wanted to go to sleep beside him every night, wake up beside him every day. Her every waking moment was filled with thoughts of him, and her eyes were drawn to his ship whenever she was outside. 

Arthur reached behind Abby to grab the bottle of rum, and then he helped her off the table. 

“Can we go to bed now?” he asked, opening his eyes wide, trying and failing at a pleading expression. Abby laughed, but she agreed, and took his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. 

They helped each other out of their clothes, savouring every bit of skin that was uncovered, replacing fabric with nips and licks and butterfly kisses. And soon they were naked together on the bed, and their kisses became more urgent, and when Arthur pushed Abby’s hands above her head and thrust himself inside her, her mind turned to liquid heat.

Afterward they drizzled rum on each other’s bodies and licked it off, and fed each other bits of food, and when they were full, they were both a terrible sticky mess. So Abby pulled Arthur up off the bed and towards the bathroom. 

She started the shower and stepped inside, beckoning him to follow. He joined her, blocking the water, so she turned him around so that it would spray them both. Then he lathered her hair, kneading his fingertips into her scalp until she shivered with pleasure. She washed his hair for him too, letting her fingers trail through his beard and down his chest. He bent his head forward to rinse off, and then rubbed his face to clear away the soap. She laughed when he straightened again, blinking water out of his eyes.

He soaped his hands and began washing her back, and then her front, his hands sliding deliciously over her soft breasts. He pinched her nipples gently, and then lifted and cupped her experimentally. She soaped her own hand and began to stroke his cock gently, both of them enjoying the unusually slippery sensations.

After a few minutes, she told him to block the water again, and so he rinsed off and turned so his back took the whole spray. She got down on her knees and took him in her mouth, sucking and licking him, cupping his balls, and wrapping her right hand around the base to hold him in place for her ministrations. When her left hand crept up his thigh and into the seam of his ass, he stopped her, breathlessly. He was too close for that.

Instead, he pulled her to her feet and lifted her up, pressing her against the wall, and then lowering her onto his cock. They both groaned as he filled her to the core.

When the water suddenly grew cold, Arthur reached over and shut it off, and the sound of water was replaced with their soft whispers and the wet sounds of skin on skin. And then her voice grew louder, then his, and then there was silence.

Later as they fell asleep in each other’s arms, they both wished the night would never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [September](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14078237)
> 
> [November](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14114152)


	6. April

Arthur was writing notes in his folder, regarding a requisition of supplies from the Airport in exchange for some food later in the year. He had been at it for over an hour, and kept stopping to add things on his fingers. Abby had gotten somewhat bored of waiting a while ago, and so she surreptitiously tore a small strip off of her paper, wadded it up, and threw it at Arthur. 

It hit him in the forehead, and he looked at her in annoyance. 

“Let the bookkeepers figure out the details.” she said. 

He grumbled at her and went back to work.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, folding her fingers in her lap and studying him as he worked. She hadn’t really looked at him that hard since she met him. She liked him. He was a good friend, and someone she could relax and laugh with in a way she couldn’t with her subordinates. And she knew he felt the same. But she hadn’t really _looked_ at him since they met. 

He definitely gave an intimidating first impression, all muscle and coat and beard. A second glance highlighted his scowling brow and scar. But now she looked even closer, and saw the dark circles from stress under his blue eyes, and the glossy sheen in his dark hair, and the slightly aristocratic line of his nose. And the way his bottom lip was just a tiny bit too full…

She blinked and looked away. She definitely hadn’t noticed that before. The movement of his hands as he scratched away with his pencil drew her attention again, and now she found herself staring at his hands. They were large, and strong, marked with some small nicks and scratches, with clean, square nails. She wondered how those hands would feel on her skin…

She had to stop herself again. She didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from. She got up and went to the window and looked outside. A spring rain was falling, and the street was shining in the moonlight. 

Arthur finished his calculations and turned to Abby. She was standing by the window, and the light from the lamp and the moonlight from the window shone gently on her skin and hair, which was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. She wore tiny gold hoops in her ears. She’d taken off her jacket, and was just wearing a white shirt, which was unbuttoned a little at the top, revealing the smooth curve of her throat. 

Arthur’s heart pounded a little in his chest, and he turned back to his papers, looking at them blankly. 

A relationship with the General was _not_ appropriate, he told himself. 

_Why, exactly?_ a small voice asked in the back of his mind. 

Arthur ignored the voice and grabbed the bottle of rum. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.

Abby turned to him and smiled. _She really has a pretty smile,_ Arthur thought. 

He ignored that voice too. He held the glass out to her and she took it. Their fingers brushed together. Arthur pulled his hand back quickly. He turned and sat on the couch. Abby went to the radio and turned it on. 

They sat quietly, both of them struggling to find something to say. For some reason, no topic immediately sprang to mind. 

“That was pretty funny when you spat on Hancock,” she finally said. 

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah.”

More silence. 

The song changed on the radio. 

They both listened quietly as the song played, and then as they listened to it, they both began to turn red. 

When the song hit the chorus,

“There'll be 15 minutes of kissing  
Then you'll holler "please don't stop"  
There'll be 15 minutes of teasing  
And 15 minutes of squeezing  
And 15 minutes of blowing my top”

Abby jumped up and turned it off again. She decided to take another drink. But she hadn’t drank any of the first one, so instead she just took a sip. 

“Well, you’re quiet,” she said. Did you know, back in my day, they used to keep Bibles in hotel rooms? Maybe I can find something to read,” she said, with a tinge of sarcasm.

She headed into one of the bedrooms and looked in the drawer. No Bible. She went into the second bedroom and looked in the drawer. There was no Bible there either, but she did find something. 

“Look, it’s a book of limericks!” 

She sat on the chair and opened the book, flipping through it until something caught her eye. 

“There was an old man with a beard  
Who said, "it’s just how I feared!  
Two owls and a hen  
Four larks and a wren  
Have all built their nests in my beard.”

Abby burst out laughing. Arthur just scowled at her. “Funny.” he said.

She tossed the book at him. 

It bounced onto the floor, where he picked it up and flipped through it. 

“First one to make the other laugh wins, loser takes a shot.” suggested Abby.

“Alright,” agreed Arthur. He cleared his throat and began.

“There once was a man from Balbas  
Who's balls were made of brass  
They rattled together  
And made stormy weather  
Til lightning shot out of his ass”

That one earned a snort at least.

“There once was a man named Sir Lancelot  
Who went to parties and danced a lot  
When making a pass  
At a young pretty lass  
The front of his pants would advance a lot!”

For some reason this one sent them both into fits of laughter, and so they both drained their drinks. They both reached for the bottle at the same time, and their hands collided. Suddenly Abby got to her feet. 

“You know, I’m actually really tired tonight.” she said. “I think I’m gonna…” she was backing towards the bedroom. 

Arthur nodded. He stretched, unconvincingly, and agreed. The door shut behind Abby. Arthur sat alone for a few minutes before retreating into his own room. 

***  
Abby lay awake for a long time, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the evening. All the pieces were in place, they had booze, and music, and something to laugh at. But there was a tension there that she couldn’t identify.

Eventually, Abby fell asleep, and the last image in her mind as she did was Arthur’s full lower lip.

***

Across the suite, Arthur dreamed of Abby’s skin glowing in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [March](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14041857)
> 
> [May](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14103256)


	7. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I started to fall asleep trying to proofread, please let me know if there are any really bad errors. I'll probably double check it and edit it in the morning.

They awkwardly avoided each other’s eyes as they reviewed the agenda for the month, the radio playing softly in the background. The weather was beginning to warm up, and as expected, water was becoming somewhat of an issue. One of Abby’s settlements had four working water purifiers, and another only had one. They had been shipping purified water between the settlements, but it would be much more efficient if they could simply move two of the water purifiers from one settlement to the other.

After a bit of negotiation, Arthur agreed to allow the use of a vertibird and some muscle to move the purification units. They also discussed disputes that had cropped up between some individual Brotherhood members and some settlements, and agreed to address them, and then discussed a trade agreement to share certain kinds of supplies on a more formal basis. 

The last issue on the agenda, the one they had both been avoiding, was the issue of fraternisation between the two factions. There had been some instances of relationships between Brotherhood and Minutemen, or settlers. One couple had requested to be married.

They both looked at the table.

Abby looked at the window. Arthur looked at the door. 

“We really need to address this,” Abby said. 

Arthur stared at his papers. “So, if there are people from your side and my side who want to have a relationship, can you think of any reason why they shouldn’t? I mean, it strengthens ties between us.” he reddened. “I meant, between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood.”

“No… we should encourage bonding. I don’t know of any good reasons to disallow it.”

“Ok then. We’ll ignore fraternization and allow marriages,” said Arthur, making a note on his page. “But you and I, we have to set an example.”

“Right. It can’t happen again.” replied Abby. 

“Yes. Absolutely. It was a one time thing.” 

“Of course,” replied Abby.

They sat in silence for a minute. “Not that it was bad…” Abby said.

“No. Definitely not. Not bad, I mean.” Arthur swallowed hard. He began tapping his fingers on the table. _Rat tat tat. Rat tat tat_

Abby watched his fingers, remembering how they felt on her. Her eyes wandered up his arm, to his shoulder, his jaw, his mouth.

His lips had tasted like rum.

“Arthur…” she whispered.

Ella Fitzerald sang on the radio:

“If you’ve got a heart, and if you’re kind  
Then don’t keep us apart, make up your mind  
You’re undecided now  
So what are you gonna do?”

“Maybe a little bit of fraternizing wouldn’t hurt.” Arthur said. 

They both stood up at the same time. They leaned over the table, but it was too wide, so Abby climbed on top of the table and crawled over to him, papers scattering every which way, until she was close enough to grab him by the collar of his coat and pull herself up. He brought his hand to her head and pulled her hair tie out, and then he twined his fingers into her hair and pulled her face down to his.

They kissed like they’d been starving for the taste of each other, the last few weeks stretching behind them like an eon, the next few an eternity. There was no taste of rum this time. All Abby tasted on Arthur’s tongue was that blend of strength and maleness that was uniquely Arthur. His arms crept around her waist, pulling her tightly against his body, and she wrapped hers around his neck, both of them trying desperately to get closer to one another. 

When Abby began to push at his coat, trying to get it off his shoulders, he leaned back slightly to help her, shrugging it off onto the floor. Her coat followed shortly afterwards, and then she was unzipping him from his uniform and running her hands over his lightly furred chest, luxuriating in the feeling of the coarse hair between her fingers. 

He helped her out of her coat as well, then began on the buttons on her shirt. Once he’d bared her skin, he began mouthing his way down her throat. He was stopped by her bra, and when he realized that he’d have to take her shirt off to remove it, it crossed his mind to just snap it right in two. 

But he reconsidered and just pushed it down instead, spilling her breast over the top. When his mouth closed over her nipple, she gasped and clenched her hand in his hair. “Do you like that?” he asked, mumbling into her flesh.

“Mmm, yes.” she said, as the heat from his mouth seemed to seep throughout her whole body. She tried to stay coherent. “We should… get off the table.” she managed.

He pulled her off the table, and they made their way to the bedroom, discarding clothing as they went, eventually falling onto the bed naked. Abby lay half across his chest, and as Arthur’s tongue swept her mouth, she ran her hand slowly down his chest, past his navel, until finally she grasped his cock in her warm fingers. She stroked him slowly at first, then a bit harder, and then she began licking her way downward until she was close enough to his cock that he could feel her breath on him. 

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“I thought I’d give you a blowjob,” she said. “Haven’t you ever had a blowjob before?”

“I… no. I’ve been too busy for fraternizing, mostly. Oh. Ummm...There’s only really been a couple of… oh! times before, and nobody ever.. oh my god…” 

Finally Arthur gave up trying to talk and just laid his head back and tried to figure out what to do with his hands. When he did manage to glance down, he saw Abby looking up at him, her hair all around her face, and her mouth stuffed full of his cock. He knew he wasn’t going to last. And he knew suddenly that he wanted to make this last. So he sat up, and pulled her away from him reluctantly. 

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, and then he asked, “Can I...I mean, would you like if…” 

He took a breath. 

“I want to know what you taste like too,” he finally said in a rush.

“I’d love that,” she replied, and so she climbed up on the bed and lay on her back. Arthur came up to her and pushed her legs apart. He ran a finger up her slit, and she gasped. He did the same thing again, and then dipped one finger into her slick tunnel.

He bent his head and tasted her for the first time. She whispered to him as he went, telling him higher, to the left, yes, there, slow down, speed up, and gradually her voice tapered off and suddenly her legs clamped around his head, and her pussy clamped around his fingers, and she arched her back up off the bed with a loud keening cry. 

He didn’t have a chance to extricate himself before she was tugging on his hair and pulling him up on top of her. 

“I need you inside me right now,” she whispered in his ear. He agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly. 

He slipped inside her easily, a little afraid of hurting her at first, but then she locked her ankles behind his back and used her legs to pull him closer. That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into her harder and faster, and then it wasn’t long before he felt the coiling tension at the base of his spine begin to unravel. He managed to withdraw just in time to spill on her belly.

They lay together for a long time, before going back into the main space and eating their supper nude. By the time the midsummer sun went down, she was in his lap on the couch, and he was kissing her, and tickling her with his beard.

***

They decided that there was no reason they needed to stop fraternizing after this. After all, they had just explicitly made it permissible. Sometimes there were benefits to being leaders. 

Before they parted in the morning, Arthur leaned down and whispered “I can’t wait to see you next month.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I plug my Tumblr yet? 
> 
> I like to chat! Come talk with me. Tell me what you think, ask me a question, whatever!
> 
> http://tessa1978.tumblr.com/
> 
>    
> [May](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14103256)
> 
> [July](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14040627)


	8. September

Arthur sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable, as he waited for Hancock and the bodyguards to leave. Abby avoided his eyes. She’d had plenty of time to think over the last month, and she realised some of the things she had said were unnecessary and harsh. 

Everything that had happened the last time they had seen each other, all the things that were said, none of that was Arthur’s fault. But they didn’t communicate except through messengers between visits, so she had no way of knowing if he was still angry with her. 

She hoped he wasn’t. She cared about him too much for that. 

As soon as the door closed, Abby turned to him. “Arthur, I’m sorry-” 

He interrupted her with a hand up. “We should get to work.”

“Work can wait. We need to talk.”

“There’s no need to talk. I understand if you think we need to keep our relationship more professional.”

Abby paled a little. Maybe she’d hurt him even more than she thought. She stood up and came around the table. He watched her as she came closer, his frown intensifying. But when she put her hand on his face and turned him towards her he didn’t resist. He turned his chair to face her. 

When she was looking in his eyes, she took his hands in hers and said, ‘I don’t want to keep our relationship professional, Arthur. I care about you, I want you and I need you. Those things I said….I’m sorry. I was having a bad day. It wasn’t about you.” 

Arthur was relieved. The last month had been torture, every glimpse of the Castle agony, and he’d lain awake at night trying to figure out what went wrong, terrified that their relationship had ended. So when he’d come in here today, he had felt like his heart was tearing out of his chest at the sight of her.

He looked down at her, and saw the tears in her eyes. He leaned over and kissed her, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “It’s ok, I’m just-” 

He cut himself off, then stood up and wrapped her in his big arms, pressing her head to his chest, and stroking her hair. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

She leaned her head back and looked at him. “I don’t hate you, Arthur.”

He smiled. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She nodded, so he led her to the couch and then retrieved a couple of glasses of rum and sat beside her. He tucked her into his lap and listened to her as she talked. 

An hour later, their talking had turned to hungry kisses and roaming hands. And they were only interrupted when Arthur’s stomach growled loudly.

“Maybe we should finish this later,” she said. “Eat supper, get our work done. And then,” she kissed him on the jaw. “And then we’ll have all night.”

So they ate their supper, and reviewed their agenda, and then they went to bed. 

***

Arthur laid awake long after Abby fell asleep, his fingers trailing absently over her skin, the soft weight of her in his arms making him feel a thousand feet tall. He didn’t care about the past, and didn’t know about the future, but right now, in this moment...

He was happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [August](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14095624)
> 
> [October](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14043636)


	9. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually never played through the Minutemen ending. I told Preston I'd meet him at the Castle and then never bothered to show up. So I'm kind of speculating and extrapolating a bit here. Please excuse me.
> 
>  

It made a huge sound, when the Institute was destroyed. Abigail Rose Bailey, General of the Minutemen, knew it was coming, and covered her eyes and ears. She had pushed the button, after all. And she cried. Not many people knew what she had lost by pushing that button, but Preston did, and Piper. They held her hands and rubbed her back. 

The explosion was seen from the Prydwen as well. Arthur Maxson, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, did not know it was coming, and the shockwave rocked the airship, knocking items off shelves and causing Quinlan’s cat to hide under his bed for two days. The Elder did not know who had caused the explosion, or why, or what had exploded. But he aimed to find out. 

By the time the cat came out from underneath the bed, he had his answers. The explosion was caused by the Minutemen, who had somehow managed to strategically place artillery throughout the region, and the ‘what’ was the Institute. And since the Brotherhood’s main mission in the Commonwealth was the destruction of the Institute, it suddenly rendered their presence here to be redundant.

But Arthur Maxson, leader of a centuries old organization, and last of a long line of Maxsons, was not the type to back out. His troops had spent months in the region, and some of the new recruits were locals. They had intended on expanding into the area. He was aware that pulling out now would be more complicated than simply packing up and leaving. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Whatever action he took rested on his shoulders, and his alone. Although he asked for and considered the advice of his top people, ultimately the decision fell to him. And he’d taken to pacing his quarters and talking to the walls as he worked out his problems. Unfortunately, the walls never replied. 

He debated the merits of attack, withdrawal, and negotiation. He was young, but not stupid, and it soon became clear that the Brotherhood stood to gain the most and at the lowest cost, should he decide to enter into negotiations. So he decided to make overtures of diplomacy towards the General of the Minutemen, a faction he had overlooked for far too long. 

Three days after the Institute was destroyed, a messenger from the Prydwen arrived at the Castle. The General still had not left her room. After speaking with the messenger, Preston Garvey tentatively knocked at her door. When there was no answer, he knocked harder. “It’s me, General. There’s a messenger. From the Brotherhood.”

That got Abby out of her bedroom. She came to talk to the messenger, and they agreed to set up a meeting. Preston left with the messenger with the instructions to organise the meeting on neutral ground, and Abby went back to her room.

She curled up in a ball on her bed, the same place she had been for the last few days. She had been working so hard for the Commonwealth, to make it a better place for her son. But in the end her son was the enemy she had been fighting the whole time. 

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of Nate. She wished so hard every single day that he were here with her. He would have been much better suited to this life than her. Better suited to being a General, and leading troops, and defending the weak. She didn’t know if she would ever be able to let him go. She was certain she’d never be able to love anyone ever again. She cried harder and clenched her pillow. 

Even though Nate had technically been dead for decades, it had only been a few months since she’d come out of the vault. He’d been in the military, and she had prepared herself in the past for his possible death, but she hadn’t been expecting it once he retired. And she missed him so much. She missed having someone to talk to, someone she could bounce ideas off, someone she could let loose and be silly with. Her new friends were great, but ultimately she was their commander, and she was well aware of where to draw the line. 

After some time, she realized that Nate would want her to go on, and keep fighting. The enemy was defeated, but there was the unknown situation with the Brotherhood, and their impressive armaments and troops. Abby knew they wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Institute as quickly without the Brotherhood clearing the Commonwealth, but she hoped they weren’t planning on extorting her or her people. They may or may not know it, but she had an artillery emplacement trained right on that airship at all times, and she would not hesitate to use it given the right provocation.

There were several days of back and forth between the two factions, and then finally, two weeks after the Institute was destroyed, a time and place was decided. Abigail Bailey and Arthur Maxson would meet at a suite in the Hotel Rexford on the first Friday in February, at six o’clock pm.

Abby had no idea what she would find when she got there, but she’d heard rumours. Apparently the man was seven feet tall, had killed a deathclaw at the age of nine, with his bare hands, and had lost his eye in the fight. He wore an eyepatch and half his face hung open from the scar. He wore a coat he sewed himself from the hide of the beast, and he ate raw yao guai for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Abby was an educated woman, and she knew that most of that was probably hugely exaggerated. But she was still apprehensive about meeting him.

Up on the Prydwen, Arthur Maxson was pondering similar stories about the General. Apparently she had crawled out of a Vault only months ago, and slaughtered a deathclaw mere hours later, with her bare hands. The General defeated a ten story high mirelurk by climbing up its back and stabbing it with a knife, and could convince anyone to join her cause just by winking at them. She then built an army from nothing, and went on a personal mission of vengeance to destroy the Institute from within. And she may or may not be the Silver Shroud.

Arthur had heard the ridiculous rumors about himself, and was ready to take the stories about the General with a grain of salt. But he couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a grain of truth buried in all that nonsense as well, and he was prepared to be cautious when he met his only real equal in the Commonwealth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [February](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14039755)


	10. August

The warm summer evening in August when Abby sat down with Arthur in the room in Goodneighbor happened to be the 213th anniversary of her wedding to Nathan Bailey. 

It had already been a rough week, with pressure from settlements, issues with troop rations, and an accident at the castle that had left her with a dead Minuteman. She’d been taking it all in stride, until she woke up this morning and realized the date. 

She missed Nate, but her thoughts had been turning more and more often to Arthur, and it filled her with guilt. It was one thing to be friends with him, drinking buddies, such as it was. And it hadn’t really bothered her when they’d gotten closer physically either. But she had definitely developed feelings that were a little beyond the “friends with benefits” stage. 

And it had really only been about ten months. Ten months felt like too short a time to be a widow for her to be thinking of someone else. 

She’d been certain she would never think of anyone else again.

So why was she feeling like this now? Was her marriage so weak that she could just forget about Nate so quickly? The guilt and sadness were overwhelming, and as she sat and waited for Hancock to take the others down to the Third Rail, she struggled to fight back tears.

The last few weeks had gone by so slowly for Arthur, that he was just overjoyed to be there. He’d missed Abby even more than he thought possible. So when the door closed and they were finally alone, he said in a low voice, “Have you been looking forward to this as much as I have?”

It was absolutely the wrong thing to say, judging by the angry frown that suddenly appeared on her face. He frowned, too, suddenly realizing that she’d seemed really quiet and reserved ever since she’d arrived. “Is there something wrong?” he asked. 

“Let’s just get to work,” she said. 

“All right, then.” he replied, opening his folder. Abby poured herself a glass of rum and opened hers. 

Their agenda was resolved much slower than usual today. The majority of the problem stemmed from the fact that no matter what solutions Arthur offered, Abby shot them down. Most of the agenda items devolved into an argument before they were resolved. Arthur wasn’t sure why Abby was being so contrary today. 

By the time they slogged through the entire agenda, Abby had finished off three glasses of rum and was halfway through the fourth. Arthur had had a couple himself, and her bad mood had dampened his considerably, but it was still with a distinct sense of relief and anticipation that he shut his folder. 

When he came around the table and took her hand to pull her to her feet, she resisted, pulling her hand away from him and rising to stand with her chair between them. Arthur stood where he was. She started pacing. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she began. “I think maybe we’re making a mistake.”

“I thought we agreed it’s permissible…”

That wasn’t what she meant. Abby was trying not to start crying, so she turned her back on him and looked out the window. 

There was something wrong. Arthur could tell she was upset. Maybe she needed comforting for some reason. Maybe she needed to talk. He walked over to where she stood and tried to take her in his arms. 

Abby spun away from him, weaving a little from the rum. “NO,” she said, almost shouting. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” _I want Nate._

_I_ should _want Nate._

The guilt was overwhelming.

“Just… leave me alone.” She said, and then turned and headed into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door.

Arthur stood looking at the door for a moment, and then snatched up the bottle of rum and went into the other room, slamming the door behind him.

Abby laid awake for a long time. She wanted to go to Arthur, and tell him she was sorry. But she was stopped by guilt. Guilt towards Nate, and now guilt towards Arthur who hadn’t deserved that treatment. 

She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees to her chest. She promised herself she would apologize to him in the morning.

But in the morning, he was gone before she left her room, and when she went to the Third Rail for breakfast, she found Preston sitting there alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [July](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14040627)
> 
> [September](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14078237)


	11. May

“The problem with last month was we weren’t drunk enough,” Abby said, after Hancock reminded them about spitting and shut the door.

She poured them both a healthy glass of rum, and then looked at her paperwork.

They spent about an hour reviewing the agenda, and sipping at their drinks, and then they tucked into the meal Hancock had left. By the time they were done eating, they had shucked off their coats, but the warm feeling from the rum had worn off quite a bit, so she poured them each a second one. Arthur took his glass and sat on the couch.

“I brought your book back, by the way,” said Abby, referring to a novel Arthur had brought her to read in March. She went to her bag and began digging through it. Arthur tried not to look directly at her backside as she did. 

She stood up and set it on the table. “Sorry it took so long to read it. It’s hard to find time for fun when you’re a General.”

“It’s hard to find time when you’re an Elder too.”

Suddenly Abby burst out laughing. “Elder. That’s a funny title since you don’t look old.”

Arthur just rolled his eyes at her, but he moved over a little on the couch so she could sit beside him, and told her a little about Brotherhood history, and about growing up in the Citadel, and about killing a half dead deathclaw when he was a young teenager. 

“Is that how you got this scar?” she asked him, running a finger lightly down his cheek, and then resting it on his arm.

Arthur nodded, fire seeming to bloom from her fingertips. He rested his hand on hers. 

Abby then regaled him with the tale of her own first encounter with a deathclaw. It turns out she was in full power armour, and armed with a minigun, and there were people in nearby buildings taking potshots at it as well. 

“So I suppose neither of us are quite the legends that we’ve been made out to be.”

“No I suppose not.”

Abby smiled, and swirled her rum in her glass, and finished it off, before setting the empty glass down on the floor. Arthur did the same, and then slung his arm over Abby’s shoulders. _Friendly._ he thought. 

“It’s really good to be able to have someone to talk to. I’m glad to have you as a friend.” he said. 

Abby was extremely conscious of the weight of Arthur’s arm over her shoulders, and warmth began radiating from it throughout her torso, settling in her lower belly. 

“Yeah, I really appreciate having you as a friend too,” Abby replied, then tilted her face up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

 _Nice and friendly_ she thought. Arthur smelled nice, a warm combination of leather, metal, and the vanilla scent of rum, with a hint of something earthy and musky just underneath the surface.

Arthur thought he ought to return the kiss. As a friend. He turned slightly and pressed a kiss to her cheek, lingering maybe a half second longer than he needed to. Her skin was soft, he couldn’t help it, he pressed his lips to her face a second time, and she made a tiny sound in the back of her throat. 

When he went to kiss her cheek a third time, she turned her face and his lips landed on hers. He started to pull back in surprise, but instead her hand came up to rest on the back of his neck, and she pulled him closer, and so with a groan he pulled her fully into his arms and kissed her again. _This is so not friendly,_ he thought.

Her mouth opened slightly under his, and he traced the edge of her lip with his tongue before sliding it inside, tentatively tasting her mouth. It was all rum sweetness and it made him want to go back for more. He deepened the kiss, and when she tightened her grip on his neck and thrust her tongue against his, he knew he was done for.

Neither of them realized that they had begun to lean over until somehow Abby was laying on her back with Arthur overtop of her. By this point, she had both her arms around his neck, and the arm he’d rested on her shoulders was supporting his weight, while his other hand was working her shirt from the waistband of her pants. 

When his hand finally made its way to the bare skin of her waist, she gasped slightly and whispered “Arthur…” into his mouth.

He paused, and leaned back slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, pulling his face back to hers. 

Arthur groaned, and then with more confidence, slipped his hand into her shirt and caressed her waist, savouring the soft skin of her belly, and then higher, until he was cupping her breast in his hand, kneading it lightly through her bra. Abby seemed to like that, so he squeezed a little harder, and then pulled his hand out and began unbuttoning her shirt, starting from the bottom.

He broke off their kiss as he worked each button out of its hole, slowly revealing her belly, tracing the faint lines there with his finger, then her ribcage, running his thumb along the bones he could feel under her flesh, and then higher, until he was stopped by her bra. He was a little puzzled by it, not exactly sure where it was attached.

It took a moment for Abby to realize that Arthur had stopped. She opened her eyes and looked at him, he was staring at her bra. She giggled slightly when she realized what the problem was, and then sat up, shrugging off her shirt and reaching around behind her back to undo it. 

She swallowed hard when she saw his eyes darken and his face redden a bit when she dropped her bra on the floor, and then his hands were on her breasts and she closed her eyes as he kissed her again. 

When his kisses moved back to her jaw and neck she shivered a little at the feel of his beard on her neck, but tilted her head to the side, to allow him better access. His hands were warm as he played with her breasts, cupping them, and squeezing the nipples gently. 

She was laying back down again by this point, and he’d somehow worked his way between her legs, and was kissing his way down her chest, agonizingly slowly. When he finally made his way to her breast and licked at her nipple to make it stand up, she felt heat burn through her from his mouth, pooling between her legs and making her ache. She ground herself against him, the layers of clothing frustrating her. 

Her hand rested on the back of his neck, and she was stroking the velvety hair on the back of his head where he kept it very short. She ran her finger along the collar, and then tugged it lightly between her fingers, pulling him away from her. “You need to take this off,” she said.

Arthur left off his attention to her breasts, leaving them cold and bare. He sat up and undid his zipper, but then he stood up and began taking the whole thing off, baring himself to her view.

Abby couldn’t believe what she saw under that suit. It was tight, and black, clinging to his body, but when he pulled it off, leaving only his underwear, it revealed a mouthwatering view of defined muscles, lightly furred with dark hair, and a number of scars that indicated a hard life of violence and battle. 

“Oh my god,” she said, looking him up and down. “I really wish I would have gotten you out of your clothes sooner.”

Arthur laughed and then sat down beside her on the couch and reached for her, but she stood up instead, and shucked off her own pants, and then sat astride his lap and kissed him. He placed his hands on her hips and kissed her back, and then she began moving, rubbing her core against him through his underwear. 

He could feel her dampness through the layers of cloth as she ground against his erection, and his hands on her hips pressed her harder into him. She sat up and pressed her breasts to his face as her movements sped up, and she began moaning softly under her breath. He tilted his face up to watch her as she undulated on him, faster, the moans turning to a high pitched sound of need. Her skin went ruddy, the flush rising from her breasts to her face.  
Suddenly Abby went still, grinding into him hard, and pressing her forehead into his shoulder, breathing heavily.

Arthur wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened, but he thought it looked amazing, and he was certain he’d never wanted anyone in his life as much as he wanted her in this moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Abby muttered into his neck when she caught her breath, but he just smiled and captured her mouth with his, running his fingers through her auburn hair. A moment later, he lifted her up and laid her on her back, and then he removed her underwear, tossing them aside, followed immediately by his own. He spread her legs apart, and then drew his finger through the slick folds at her apex, eliciting a low moan from her. 

He leaned over her, and pressing his mouth into the curve of her neck, whispered, “Are you sure?” Her only response was to take him in her hand and guide him inside her. 

He slowly sank into her slick heat, groaning as her tightness enveloped his cock, and when he bottomed out, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tipped her hips slightly, taking him even deeper. He began thrusting, slowly at first, but then as the tension at the base of his spine began to build, he braced his foot against the arm of the couch and sped up, unable to hold back any longer.

He snapped his hips into her hard, the last few times, before he felt himself tipping over the edge, and he managed to withdraw just in time to spill on her belly and into his hand, swearing a little as he tried to keep from collapsing on top of her and crushing her. 

***  
After they’d gotten cleaned up, they got partially redressed. Abby put her underwear and shirt back on, and Arthur put on his briefs. She sat back down on the couch. Arthur poured himself a glass of rum, and sat there looking at it for a minute, without taking a sip. 

“I suspect this is an inappropriate use of our time,” he said.

“Mmm-hmm,” agreed Abby. 

“We definitely should avoid this in the future,” he added.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“We wouldn’t want to compromise the stability of the Commonwealth with an overly personal relationship.”

“Yup.”

They sat there for another minute. Then Abby spoke. 

“Do you want to do it again right now, though?”

“Yes,” he said, with a loud relieved exhale that sounded like he’d been holding his breath for a while. 

And then he practically dragged her to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [April](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14050373)
> 
>  
> 
> [June](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14067723)


	12. November

There was something off about Arthur today, Abby could tell as soon as he walked into the room, ruddy faced from the cold late November wind outside. He sat at the table in his usual spot, and avoided her eyes. Danse leaned down and Arthur spoke quietly into his ear for a moment, before nodding and straightening. 

They waited for Hancock to arrive, and when he did, Preston Garvey and Danse left with him, Danse clapping Preston on the back like an old friend. They had gotten into their own share of trouble in Goodneighbor during the last few months, and Abby knew her friend looked forward to spending time with the Paladin almost as much as she looked forward to seeing Arthur.

She drank him in with her eyes, thirsting for the sight of him after almost five weeks apart. He’d trimmed his beard, she noticed, but his hair had grown a bit and was falling into his eyes as he flipped through his paperwork.

They both found it far simpler to get the work done first so it wasn’t hanging over their heads, so she turned to her own agenda and began making notes. 

With each topic, Arthur became increasingly agitated, avoiding her eyes, and tapping his pencil on the table. Abby began to grow concerned, and asked him what was wrong. He stopped tapping his pencil, but insisted he was fine. 

They finally came to the conclusion of their work, and Abby shut her folder and looked over at Arthur, who was tapping his pencil again. 

“Are we done?” she asked him.

“Huh? Yes. Except there’s one more item.”

Abby crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly. He stood up, and began to pace around the room, rubbing his hand through his hair. 

“Arthur….”

He stopped suddenly and then stood in front of her. He took a deep breath, and then began to talk in a huge rush.

“It has come to the attention of myself and confirmed by my advisors that we feel that the monthly meetings are no longer necessary due to the efficient running and cooperation between our two factions. As such, we have determined, and I am of course authorized to recommend, that is, to request that in future we draft a more permanent and official arrangement between the groups.”

Abby just looked at him. He’d just said a lot of big words in a rush, and she was still caught up on the part where the meetings were no longer necessary… did that mean he didn’t want to see her any more?

Arthur had been making speeches for years. He knew how to orate. But for some reason, his rehearsed speech had all come out in a rush. And judging by the confused look on Abby’s face, it had been completely incomprehensible to her. He suddenly began to panic, so he tried again. 

“What I am recommending as leader of the Brotherhood is a permanent merger with the Minutemen, a...a blending of the two groups. This will ensure long term stability and cooperation throughout the Commonwealth, as epitomized by the symbolic familial unification of the two leaders of their respective factions.”

Abby still had no idea what the hell he was talking about. And she used to be a lawyer.

Arthur let out a huff of frustration. This wasn’t going well. He looked at Abby sitting there in the chair, confusion and a small amount of dismay in her eyes. That wasn’t the expression he had hoped for. He walked over to her, took her hands in his, and then got down on his knees in front of her so he could look her in the eye.

“Abby, what I’m saying is, that I think… I mean, I would like if, well… would you marry me?”

“For the good of the Commonwealth?”

“Yes… and because I can’t stand leaving you every month, and I think about you every moment of the day, and I want you beside me until I’m old and grey, and I want to have a family with you, and see them grow up, and go to sleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I love you, Abby, and I don’t want to be apart from you any more.”

Abby just looked at him, a little stunned, as what he said sank in. A smile slowly spread across her face, and then without warning, she threw herself into his arms, almost knocking him over. She began to kiss him all over his face and mouth, until eventually he pulled back from her and asked her, “So are you agreeing?”

Abby just laughed and said yes, before resuming kissing him. 

***

“We’ll live in the Castle,” Arthur said later on as they lay entwined together. “The Prydwen is a warship and a troop carrier, not a home. It needs to return to the Capital Wasteland, as some people wish to return home, and then it can return again. Actually having it patrol the area between the Capital and the Commonwealth will probably go a long way towards easing long-distance caravans and travellers, and allowing trade and commerce to expand in relative safety.”

Abby just trailed her fingers up and down his chest and stomach, half listening as he made plans for the future. As politically beneficial as this union was, all Abby cared about at that exact moment was that they loved each other, and in a little over four weeks, on Christmas Eve, they would stand together and be married.

And that made her happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [October](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14043636)
> 
> [December](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14038618)
> 
> Well that's it folks, let me know how you liked it, and if you think it worked. If there is enough interest, I WILL do December part two. Let me know here or on [Tumblr](http://tessa1978.tumblr.com/).


	13. December Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular request, here is December Part 2: The Wedding Night. This is a disgusting sap fest; the cheesiest happy ending of all time; so sweet I got cavities from writing it. And I'm sorry. 
> 
> I'm also sure this entire chapter is just one big run-on sentence. So I also apologize for the grammar. 
> 
> I don't usually listen to music while I write, but in my defense, I had Norah Jones playing the whole time I was writing this. 
> 
> It filled me with the warm fuzzies and I hope you like it too.

Arthur waited for Abby in the bedroom of the suite at the Hotel Rexford in Goodneighbor. He had removed his outfit and was dressed in loose pants. He paced a little while he waited.

Everywhere he looked in the suite were memories of Abby. Abby sitting at the table shuffling through papers, Abby in the shower, Abby underneath him in the bed and on top of him on the couch, Abby on the table and up against the door. Abby passed out on the floor and laughing as he spit out of the window. 

He closed his eyes and thought of her at their wedding ceremony. She’d looked so beautiful in the grey dress, the exact colour of her eyes. The first outfit he’d seen her in that wasn’t her General’s uniform. It had been all he could do the entire day not to just grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her off. 

He was nervous now. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she was no longer Abigail Rose Bailey, the General of the Minutemen, but Abigail Rose Maxson, his wife. 

His wife. 

His heartbeat sped up a little at the thought. 

He looked up when she came out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She was wearing a soft, satiny nightgown that made his fingers itch to touch her. 

“You looked beautiful today, in your dress,” he said.

“You looked very… robely.”

They both laughed. 

“There were a lot of people there. It was making me really nervous,” Abby commented.

“Me too,” replied Arthur. He waited a moment. “I’m still really nervous. I don’t know why.”

Abby laughed a little. “Maybe we should have asked Hancock for some rum,”

“He thought of that,” said Arthur, nodding towards the bottle sitting on the night table. 

Neither of them reached for the bottle. 

Finally, Arthur took the initiative and stepped up to his wife _(wife!)_ and took her face between his hands. “I love you,” he said. 

Abby put her hands on either side of Arthur’s neck and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

And then he bent his head down and kissed her, and just like that, their nervousness melted away. 

Abby traced his lips with her tongue, and when he opened his mouth, she nipped gently at his lip before slipping her tongue inside to taste the sweet remnants of wedding cake on his breath.

Arthur brushed his hands down her body to her hips, where he gathered the fabric of her nightgown in his hands and lifted it off over her head. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her fully against his body. And then he began kissing her, her mouth, the corner of her lips, up along her jaw to her temple. He brushed her hair away from her face and then kissed behind her ear and down her neck to her bare shoulder. 

Abby felt the heat churning in her belly as her husband pressed his mouth along her collarbone to her throat, before suddenly picking her up like an old fashioned groom on a wedding cake, and carrying her to the bed, where he laid her down gently on the sheet. He laid down next to her, propping his head up in his hand, and ran his fingers up and down her body, drawing his fingertips along her familiar curves and lines, sketching out her scars with his thumb. 

He could have explored her body all night, but he could tell by the way she twitched and hummed that she was getting way too impatient for that, so he leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth, flicking it gently with his tongue. At the same time, he pushed her thighs apart with his wrist and slipped his fingers through the damp curls at her apex, barely brushing her outer lips, teasing her until she tried to arch into his hand. 

He retreated, skimming her inner thighs with his palm, and when she came to rest, he did it all over again, causing her to whisper his name over and over, until finally he gave in, and pushed two fingers into her, brushing her clit with his thumb. He whispered into her ear, “Come for me Abby,” and when she did, he curled his fingers just a bit, and she cried out, and wetness flooded his hand. 

She was still pulsing inside when he spread her thighs apart with his knee and entered her, bringing his mouth down next to her ear, where he whispered how much he loved her until he couldn’t form the words any more. Abby wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him tightly, and whispered the same words back, and when he spilled himself inside her, she kissed his temple and brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

***

They slept tangled up together, and Arthur woke up in the morning with his wife’s hand on his cock. Later they ate the breakfast someone left outside their door, and then stumbled into the bathroom to shower, but that plan was put on hold for a while while Abby bent over the sink and Arthur took her hard from behind. 

Eventually they managed to get cleaned up and dressed, and they finally left the suite together for the first time in their lives around one in the afternoon, fingers twined together, and went home to the Castle, where they had many little Maxsons, who grew up to be great big strapping Maxsons like their father.

And one day, many years later, while Arthur bounced his newest grandson on his lap, and looked up at the Prydwen IV as it launched into the sky, he turned to Abby and looked at the lines at the corners of her eyes, and smiled, and said, “Well, I guess that went well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [December](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6125641/chapters/14038618)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I built new Prydwens to make up for the ones I exploded in other fics. 
> 
> I'll show myself out.


End file.
